Easton 🔞 | SAMPLE

Chapter 2

When I wake up the following morning, I feel like I've been beaten to death through the night. My head throbs, my body aches, and I swear someone has sewn my mouth together.

I need a drink, pronto.

I can thank the red wine for the headache and the dry mouth, the sex I've not had in months for the aches, but I've got to give credit to the dickhead who woke us last night.

I wiggle my toes, stretching my legs as far as they'll go while raising my arms above my head.

Big stretch!

I yawn loudly before throwing the duvet back, wincing at the chilly air.

It's only when I'm sitting up do I realise Dan isn't in bed with me.

Where is he?

I check the time and groan. It's gone eleven, and Dan started work at nine, so that explains that. Sure enough, when I check my phone, there's a text waiting for me.

Dan: Sorry babe, woke up late and had to dash to work. I'll probably be working late again, but when I'm back we'll chat I promise. Have a good day off, love you.

"Urgh."

I drop my phone to the side with a clatter before rising to my feet. I wasn't kidding when I said I've been counting down to this day off—I'd been working solid twelve hour shifts for the past seven days, and it was killing me.

But not today.

Today I'm off, and I'm determined to catch up on my shows and maybe do some laundry. If I can be bothered.

I almost leave my room but remember last minute I have Easton to consider, and pull on some pants. I don't want him checking me out again, the pervert.

I pad into the hallway, craning my neck to the kitchen.

Nothing and no one.

My shoulders relax and I make a coffee, flicking the TV on while I do.

I'm humming away to an advert when Easton strolls into the kitchen wearing nothing but a tight pair of boxers that leave nothing to the imagination. His body is covered, and I mean covered in tattoos. It's like a tattoo artist decided to doodle all day long, and I hate to say I like the effect. I can't get over his arms either--he must workout every damn day to look that...bulky. Yeah. Bulky.

I avert my eyes before I can study him further, and pour far too much milk into my coffee.

"Shit," I mutter, screwing the lid on and moving my mug to the microwave to heat up.

Easton doesn't even acknowledge me, and I feel awkward in my own apartment.

This is crazy.

But he's Dan's brother, so I've got to be polite.

"What are you staring at?"

I blink rapidly at Easton's question, and make a face.

Was I staring?

"Nothing," I say quickly, turning to get my mug that's now far too hot.

For fucks sake.

Easton glares at me and I almost feel intimidated, but then I remember he's in my apartment. Brother or no brother, this dickhead isn't going to disrespect me.

He's about to learn the hard way.

"Are you leaving?" I ask coolly, walking past him to the sofa. I sit in the corner, and grab the remote.

I have so much to catch up on. Working sucks.

"Nope."

I'm aware that Easton is texting on his phone, not even looking at me.